


Saturday Stroll

by alynwa



Series: Sugar and Spies Tales [40]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alynwa/pseuds/alynwa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are consequences to feeding a four year old too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday Stroll

It had been a fun Saturday.  Napoleon and Illya had returned from Istanbul late Thursday night and had picked up Leona Nicole Friday evening after work.  They had decided that morning to head out to Coney Island and Brighton Beach to stroll along the boardwalk and see the sights.  Their driver let them out close to Ocean Parkway and would meet them by Nathan’s later on in the afternoon.  The unlikely family had enjoyed themselves tremendously, stopping every so often to sit on a bench to people watch or let Leona watch the seagulls dip and fly close as people threw whatever food they didn’t want to the birds.

It was the first Saturday in June and warm enough that it was comfortable to be next to the ocean.  Leona was disappointed at first that they were not walking on the sand or at the water’s edge, but she got over it when she realized that Papa was eating his way to Surf Avenue.  There were vendors spaced out along the boardwalk selling many Russian treats that he was sharing with her.  By the time the trio arrived at Nathan’s, they had eaten blinis, salo, borscht, and pickled herring on black bread.

“I give up, Tovarisch,” Napoleon moaned as they had walked down from the boardwalk to the street, “I can’t eat another bite!”

Illya scoffed, “One cannot come to Coney Island and not eat a Nathan’s hotdog and French fries; it is un-American.  Right, Leona?”

“Right!” she giggled.  She had tasted everything Papa had bought, but he would only allow her a small bite because he didn’t want her to get too full.  “Are you buying me a hotdog and fries, Papa?”

“ _Nyet,_ my love.  You will share mine, alright?”

“ _Da,_ Papa.”

Napoleon said, “These tables are too tall for Leona to stand and eat and she is _not_ sitting on one.  There are some tables with seats on the other side of the building.  I’m going to claim one; you two meet me there.”

A few people standing at another table had been watching the two men and the little girl with mild interest.  Both Illya and Napoleon had noticed them, but dismissed them as just curious onlookers.  One Latina young woman smiled at the four year old and then up at Illya.  “ _Papi,_ she’s so pretty!  Is that you?”

“She is my daughter, yes,” he answered in a tone that was cordial, but did not encourage more conversation.  “Thank you for the compliment.”  He paid for their food and gestured to Leona.  “Come.”

Napoleon was seated facing the street where Agent Aviles sat in their car.  Leona sat next to him and he draped his arm around her.  Illya sat with his back toward the street, completely confident that his partner had his back and would protect him if necessary.  “I expect all three of us will sleep well tonight.  And with all the food you two have eaten, I don’t have to worry about making dinner, do I?”

“I guess you can have the night off,” Illya teased, “How about we find a bathroom for the little one after we eat and then head home?”

“Sounds good to me, Partner.”

Later on that night, after Leona had had her bath and been put to bed, the two agents turned fathers were sitting in the living room sipping drinks and snacking on cheese and crackers.  “I didn’t eat _half_ of what you and Leona did.  I got this for me; how can you still be eating?”

The Russian rolled his eyes.  “That was hours ago.”  He was about to say something else when he tilted his head.  “I think I hear Leona,” he said, “Let’s go check on her.”

Just before they reached her door, a heartbroken wail came from the other side.  “ _Daddy!  Papa!”_

They hurried into her room and turned on the lamp to see their daughter sitting up in bed with tears streaming down her face.  “I dreamed Daddy was going away and never coming back!  You were leaving me!  I called Papa to get you, but he couldn’t catch you!  Oh, Daddy, why were you leaving me?” she sobbed even as Napoleon sat on her bed and gathered her into his arms.

“I’m right here, Sweetheart, don’t cry.  It’s alright, Daddy’s here.  You were having a nightmare, that’s all,” he soothed as he rubbed her back and kissed her forehead.  “We’re both right here.”

Illya sat down on the bed opposite Napoleon and rubbed Leona’s back.  It hurt him to see her so upset.  “It was probably all the food she ate today, too many different things.  I am sorry you had a bad dream, Daughter.”  She had quieted, but was still clinging to Napoleon as if he were about to bolt out the door.  “Would you feel better if you were to stay with Daddy?”

“Yes!  Daddy, please?”

“Leona, I need to speak with Papa privately, so we’re going to go into the hallway.”  Her response was to grip him tighter.  “I’ll be back in a few minutes.  We both will, I promise.”

“’K,” she mumbled, but she obviously was not happy when she let him go.

When they got back into the hallway Napoleon said, “Illya, are you sure?  I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.  I know how upset you became before when I fell asleep with her.”*

The Russian flushed with embarrassment.  “I am so ashamed that I said those things to you.  You know this.  Leona needs you.  What better way to show you that ugliness is behind us than for you to keep her with you?”

Napoleon’s smile was blinding.  “You’re a smart Russian.”  Leaning back so that he could look into Leona’s room he said, “Leona, get Rollo.  You two are going to sleep in my room.”

The little girl grabbed her teddy bear and raced to her Daddy’s arms.  “Now, Sweetheart, I’m going to put you down in my bed and you and Rollo go to sleep.  I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, Daddy.”  She hugged her bear and visibly relaxed as Napoleon laid her down.  “I love you, Daddy.  I love you, Papa.”

Illya kissed her cheek.  “We love you, Leona Nicole; now, go to sleep.”

They watched her for a while and then went back into the living room to finish their drinks and snacks.  Napoleon finished his drink and looked at the blond.  “Tovarisch, are you sure you’re fine with this?”

Illya tipped his head back and downed the last of his vodka.  “The very fact that you are unsure makes me know we are doing the right thing.  She is your child, Napoleon; as she is mine.  We both know our feelings for her are parental and nothing else and you need to be confident that I know that about you.  And, I do.  I am going to bed, Napoleon; I suggest you go, too.  Leona will awaken soon if she senses she is alone.  I will see you both in the morning.”

Napoleon was humbled by his partner’s faith in him.  “Goodnight, Illya.”

The next morning, Illya awoke at six AM to find Napoleon in the kitchen making coffee.  “Good morning.  Why are you up so early?”

“I couldn’t take anymore.  It was like sleeping with a whirling dervish.  At one point, I woke up to see her feet on my night table!  Another time, I woke up to find her asleep on my back!  The last time I woke up, her legs were hanging over my waist and her head was parallel to the pillow.  I shifted her around until her head was where it’s supposed to be and I came in here.  She’ll wake up in about an hour and then I can go back to bed for a bit more rest.”

“I will tell you what: I will bathe and dress Leona and we will go out for a few hours this afternoon.  That way, you can have uninterrupted time to yourself.”

“Just one condition, Partner Mine.  Do not stuff her full of food.  We’ll have no nightmares for the rest of the weekend.  And if we do, _you_ sleep with her.”

The Russian laughed as he filled two coffee mugs.  “Deal.”

 

*ref. “Ghosts of the Past”


End file.
